[Intro: Stat Quo]
Yeah
It's your folk Stat Quo, representing that A-Town, you understand me?
GMM
GMM's the motherfucking squad
I got my nigga Bun B with me, you know what I'm talking 'bout?
LT Moe on the track
[Verse 1: Stat Quo]
It was some niggas from the north, tryna move on my turf
Dropping dimes to the feds, interrupting my work
I got some niggas that bang for me, tote thangs for me
Shit brown blow and chop caine with me
Put the birds on the strip, organize the lick
Got my wolf pack of goons, in position to trip
Hopped in the van, with my eyes on a caper
Ain't no hesitation involved, we out for the white and the paper
Any drama, we handle it
Partnеrs are scandalous
Fuck knuckles, Imma hit you with an AK sandwich
Got my game as a youth, from nеw hustlers that tasked
Put that barrel to your grill, you be need some Pampers
Outta town niggas thinking it's sweet in Atlanta
Till them big choppers come out and snap like cameras
Shawty, we ain't ba[?]ers, we got brand new hammers
Ready for combat, hang your ass like bandits
[Chorus: Bun B]
We ridin candy painted slab, got flames with the chrome
A pack of trill niggas, that run up in your home
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
We got the dro by the boatload, and coke by the keys
And some Jersey dick suckers, like to get down on they knees
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
[Verse 2: Bun B]
I'm still posted up in the hood on full grind
Full time, ready to give a nigga the full 9
Got my niggas that's down with me (down with me), run the town with me
Slap a pussy nigga smile and you can frown with me
Dodo is blazed up, we loaded the K's up
It's that Underground King, with middle fingers raised up
I ain't sorry your bitch ass, got my gun out and spray
See your pistols must be punished, they won't come out and play
Staying in the crib won't stop me from setting this lead off
Ain't nothin but wood and inches I can kick off
White stone move me, kids don't stop me
That safe gon' open, or somebody getting popped, B
Guaranty that when I put in work, it won't be sloppy
They gon' know somebody killed your ass, nigga, just not me
Head back to the headquarters, and chop up the scope
It's how we do it down in the dirty south, bitch, you ain't know
[Chorus: Bun B]
We ridin candy painted slab, got flames with the chrome
A pack of trill niggas, that run up in your home
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
We got the dro by the boatload, and coke by the keys
And some Jersey dick suckers, like to get down on they knees
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
[Verse 3: Stat Quo]
I'm a master with raunchy
Face it, P.C., my flows, Chamillionaire Slim Thug is with me
NBA with Bun B, Imma ride for Pimp C
GMM is an army, better yet a navy
After the math come, niggas things tend to get Shady
So I wait for him, ready with that loaded 380
I'll murder any fucker violating my space
Have him landed in the morgue
With bullet holes in his face
[Chorus: Bun B]
I'm candy painted slab, got flames with the chrome
A pack of trill niggas, that run up in your home
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
We got the dro by the boatload, and coke by the keys
And some Jersey dick suckers, like to get down on they knees
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga
You ain't know, nigga